


i don't know how it gets better than this

by lucylikestowrite



Series: sq au verse [2]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Established Relationship, F/F, First Dates, Fluff, Smut, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-08-28 18:07:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16728327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucylikestowrite/pseuds/lucylikestowrite
Summary: Ava and Sara's first date out in public.or: a sq au interlude between the main fic and the sequel





	i don't know how it gets better than this

**Author's Note:**

> here's a teaser before the sqau sequel starts in earnest, because, yes, if you don't follow me on twitter/tumblr im uhhhh going against everything that i said in the end notes of the au, and am writing a sequel. it's shaping up to be pretty long. 
> 
> for a reminder, the sq au finished sometime in early february 2019, so this is a little bit later, on valentines day. 
> 
> ava's dress is [this](https://www.bloomingdales.com/shop/product/bardot-bella-off-the-shoulder-dress-100-exclusive?ID=3055339&RecProdZonePos=prodrec-1&LinkType=prodrec_pdpza&RecProdZoneDesc=RR-CMIO-RT-POC%7CRR-CMIO%7Cprodrec_pdpza%7CRR) one, because i don't like her canon first date dress, so i made it better
> 
> title from fearless because it's about a perfect first date
> 
> also. this is very long. it's the same length as chapter seven of the au, so like, give yourself time haha

“What do you think?” Ava looks over her shoulder at Charlotte, who is perched on the end of the bed, her legs swinging, eating from a bowl of ice cream.

She looks up at Ava, her eyes skating briefly over the dress Ava is wearing. “You look pretty.”

Ava sighs. “You said that about all of them.” She turns back to the mirror, fiddling with the neckline. Suddenly she hates it.

Charlotte shrugs. “That's because you've looked pretty in all of them. They're all nice. You don't own anything ugly.” She pauses, screwing up her mouth. “Actually, I don't like that green jacket. Or those weird orangey pants.” The pants had been a mistake, so that's valid. “But apart from that. You look nice.”

“Just nice?” Ava asks, a hint of desperation in her voice. “I can't just look _nice._ This is our first date outside _ever_. And it's _Valentine’s Day._ ”

Charlotte pushes herself off the bed, setting the bowl down on the floor. She crosses the floor, and links her hand with Ava's. She looks up at Ava, her eyes wide, earnest. “Beautiful. You look beautiful, Mom. In all of them.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Charlotte says, letting herself be drawn closer into a hug, pressing herself into Ava's body, her arms around Ava's waist.

“You're not just saying that because I'm your mom?” Ava asks, tilting Charlotte’s head away from her stomach.

“No. You look beautiful.” Charlotte pauses. “She’ll think you look beautiful whatever you wear. She's always saying how beautiful you are.”

The words send shivers through Ava's body. “She is?”

“Mmhmm,” Charlotte says, as Ava's hand moves absentmindedly to stroke over her hair. “No matter what you're wearing. I think she wants to convince me that she's serious about you. She doesn't need to, though,” she continues, casually. “I know she is. Just from how she acts. Like, right now, she's been ready for half an hour, but she's not rushing you because she knows it's important for you to get this right.”

Ava gasps. “She's been ready for half an hour? Why didn't she say anything?”

“She's been talking to Zari. And Zari isn't rushing you guys out of here. It's more money for her. But the point is, Sara's not rushing you. She'll wait—and when you turn up, she's going to think you're beautiful no matter what you're wearing. Because,” Charlotte lowers her voice, whispering, “I'm pretty sure she's in love with you, Mom.”

Tears prick at Ava's eyelids. “Yeah, baby. I think you're right.”

Charlotte's eyes light up. “Does that mean you're okay going wearing what you have on right now?”

Ava looks at the dress one last time. “I don't know. I don't know if it's… right…” she trails off, worrying at her lip. “I don't know where she's taking me. I don't know if I'm too fancy or not.”

Charlotte rolls her eyes, but doesn't let go of Ava’s hand. “You know how that could've been avoided?”

“Asking her?” Ava suggests. Charlotte nods. “Yes. But I… did not do that.” She pauses, and then realised something. “Wait. You saw her. What's she wearing? Is it fancier than this? Less fancy? Am I way overdressed?”

Charlotte thinks for a second. “It's red. And not jeans. I didn't pay any more attention than that.” She leans back, examines Ava again. “I think it was about this fancy?”

“You think?”

“I'm like… 80% sure.”

Ava sighs. “Okay. Fine. If I don’t choose now, I’m gonna spend another half an hour choosing. I’m going with this.” She glances at herself in the mirror, arranging the hair that she had so carefully curled half an hour ago.

“You know, now I think about it, I think Sara once said that her favourite colour on you is navy,” Charlotte muses, toying with the skirt of Ava’s dress.

Ava takes a breath, steeling herself, trying not to be annoyed. “Baby. You couldn’t have told me that an hour ago? When I showed you all my outfit options, and this was the _only_ navy one?” Her voice is a little shrill, anxiety tingeing every word.

Charlotte shrugs, picking up the bowl again, spooning some more ice cream into her mouth. “I only just remembered.”

Ava sighs again, smiling down at her daughter, the annoyance dissipating as soon as it had arrived. “Yeah. No. Sorry, Lottie. It’s okay.”

“I know. You’re just stressed. But it’s going to be great, promise, mom.” Charlotte takes Ava’s hand, dragging her away from the mirror. “Come on, mom. Let’s go downstairs.”

“Okay. Okay. Just. I need shoes. Is she wearing heels?”

Charlotte thinks for a second. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Cool. Cool.” Ava doesn’t feel cool, but if she keeps telling herself she is, it might help. “I can wear heels, then,” she says, pulling a silver pair on. Sara doesn’t usually mind how tall Ava is, but these ones are particularly high, and she’d rather not be an entire head taller than her.

Charlotte picks Ava’s hand up again, pulling her into the hallway. When they get to the stairs, she runs down ahead of Ava, disappearing into the living room. Ava clutches her purse close to her, her knuckles going white around it. She shouldn’t be nervous. She’s a grown woman. She’s in love with Sara, and Sara’s in love with her. They’ve had sex, have seen each other naked dozens and dozens of times, at this point. It’s not a normal first date. It’s the furthest possible thing from a normal first date. She shouldn’t be nervous.

And yet she is.

And then, Sara steps out of the living room, a breathtakingly beautiful smile on her face, and all of Ava’s nerves immediately disappear. She’s wearing a red playsuit, but it’s definitely formal. Ava isn’t overdressed. There are black tights on her legs, and heels on her feet, and Ava feels like she’s lost the ability to speak.

“Holy shit, Ava,” Sara says. “Holy shit.”

“I look okay?” Ava asks, suddenly nervous again. “I don’t look weird?”

“You look _beautiful_ ,” Sara says. “You look so good. Wow. I don’t even— I don’t even know what to say. I— this colour on you is _so_ good,” she finishes, stepping closer, her fingers brushing over the neckline.

Ava smiles. Charlotte had been right about the colour, then. “You look— you look so beautiful as well, Sara. I love you.”

Sara smiles back, gripping down on Ava’s neckline to tug her closer, pressing their lips together in a quick kiss.

When they break apart, Ava notices Zari standing in the doorway, her hand over Charlotte’s eyes. “Hey, Ava,” she says, a slightly forced smile on her face. “You look great. Can I stop blindfolding your child now? I wasn’t expecting to walk out here and find you two”—she lowers her voice—“making out.”

Sara slaps Zari with her clutch, tugging her hands away from Charlotte’s eyes. Charlotte blinks, looking up at them both. “Were you guys really making out?” Charlotte asks, Zari’s attempt to whisper the words having utterly failed, Charlotte's expression somehow both innocent and very much not.

“No, Charlotte,” Sara says, crouching down. “We were not. Zari is exaggerating. We were just _kissing_. You’ve seen that before.” Sara straighten back up, looks at Zari, reaching down for Ava’s hand. “She’s seen that before. Stop being such a drama queen.”

Zari puts her hand up in surrender. “Okay. Whatever you say, boss.”

Sara rolls her eyes. “I’m not your boss. Why do you keep calling me boss?”

“I mean. You’re paying me tonight. So you're kinda my boss.”

“And the rest of the time?”

Zari shrugs. “You just kinda have an air to you. Like you should be someone’s boss.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Sara says, laughing. “We should go. The table’s booked for fifteen minutes from now.”

Ava looks at her phone. “Wait. You told me to be ready for half an hour ago. I figured we were already late.”

Sara smiles fondly at her. “Yeah. Because I knew you’d stress out about the outfit. I had Charlotte on strict instructions that you had to be down by now, at the very latest.”

Ava looks at Charlotte, and she smirks, obviously enjoying being in the know, being part of the plan.

“You know me too well,” Ava murmurs, and Sara squeezes her hand, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek, before tugging her towards the door.

Sara looks back at Zari and Charlotte. “She needs to be in bed and asleep by ten. Got it?”

Zari nods, but as they close the door, they can hear her whispering to Charlotte. Sara sighs, pulls out her phone, texting as they walk down the path. They get to Ava’s car, and Sara unlocks it, sliding in the driver’s side, her eyes still on her phone.

Ava raises an eyebrow at Sara’s choice of side.

“You don’t know where we’re going, remember? And I wasn’t exactly about to use _my_ car to take us on our first date. Beaten up paint work and ripped seats don’t exactly scream ‘romantic,’ you know?”

Ava laughs, looking down. “Okay, fair.” She pauses. “What are you texting about?”

Sara bites her lip, as though reluctant to show her, but after a second of Ava staring at her, reproachful, she hands it over.

Ava reads through it quickly, then laughs.

 _Zari. She needs to be_  
_asleep by 10:30PM AT_  
_THE LATEST. We will_  
_be back at eleven. If_  
_she’s not asleep then,_  
_you’re not getting paid_

 _Why do you need her to_  
_be asleep so badly?_

_It’s valentine’s day,  
zari. Use your brain_

_Gross_

_Zari_

_Fine. She’ll be asleep  
by 10:30_

Ava hands the phone back, leans over to drop a kiss on Sara’s cheek. “You’re very thoughtful,” she says, a laugh still in her voice. “But it’s not the end of the world if she’s not asleep when we get back.”

Sara pouts. “It’s Valentine’s Day. I want to have my way with you. I need _time_ if I’m going to have my way with you.”

Ava laughs again, trying to ignore the heat rising in her stomach. “I know. That’s why I got us both the day off tomorrow. And since Charlotte’s on break, we can stay up as long as we want and sleep in.”

Sara turns to her, her mouth open. “Really?” Ava nods, and Sara groans, quietly. “That’s so sexy. You’re so sexy. Do you know how good that dress looks on you? Because it looks— it looks _so_ good, baby,” she says, reaching across to trace her fingers over the neckline again, before moving slightly lower, over the curve of Ava's breasts. “I really like this bit.” Her other hand lands on Ava’s thigh, over the slit in the dress. Her fingers press underneath, sliding up Ava’s leg. “And also this bit,” she finishes, her voice low, almost a whisper.

Ava shivers, swallows. “We should— we should get to restaurant.”

Sara shrugs. “Or we could skip that, drive around the block and have car sex.”

“Sara!” Ava gasps, her indignance melting away when she looks at Sara, sees the laugh behind her eyes, and realises she’s is joking. “You’re terrible.”

“This date is important to me, Ava. I wouldn’t let us skip out on it. And, in any case, you don’t need to worry. My days of car sex are long behind me. Way too much effort for not enough fun. Only actually useful if you’re a teenager who can’t have sex at home. Luckily,” she says, leaning close, nipping at Ava’s ear in a way that makes an electric shock run through her whole body, “we’ve got a lovely, big bed waiting for us. No need for car sex.”

But her hand is still pressed up underneath Ava’s dress, and it’s making Ava want to say yes, despite the fact that Sara’s not even actually _offering_ , despite the fact that car sex is terrible and messy and awkward, and they drive Charlotte around in this car.

Sara is staring at her, her eyes dark, and then her phone lights up. She finally withdraws her hand from Ava’s thigh, and Ava lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. The desire withdraws slightly, and she can concentrate on the date again.

Looking at her phone, Sara laughs, shoots a few texts back, and then turns the keys in the ignition, starting the car, pulling away seconds later.

“What was the text?” Ava asks.

Sara chucks the phone at her. It’s another text from Zari.

_Stop making out and  
get to the restaurant_

_We weren’t making out.  
I was feeling Ava up_

_Gross_

_You asked_

_I did not_

Another two texts come in as they drive away.

_Finally. See you at  
eleven. _

_You two are still  
gross, btw_

Ava blushes. “Feeling me up?”

“Well, I was,” Sara says, a smirk on her face as she drives.

“You're going to traumatise Zari, and she's going to stop babysitting for us.”

Sara waves this away. “Nah. She just likes pretending she's all disgusted by it, but she's secretly a softie. She really likes you, Ava. She really likes _us_.”

“I hope she's a softie who can keep her mouth shut,” Ava murmurs. “I'm still mayor. I don't exactly want everyone to know the details of my sex life.”

Sara turns to Ava briefly, finding her hand. “Ava. Of course she is. I wouldn't be— I wouldn't be texting her these things if I didn't trust her. I wouldn't do that to you.”

Ava sighs, slumping into herself. Her fingers twist in her lap, and she stares down at them. “Yeah. No. I know. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so off this evening. I snapped at Charlotte and now you and I just—”

Sara interrupts her. “Hey. Baby. It's okay. This is big. You're allowed to be nervous.” They’re silent for five minutes, Sara’s hand holding tight onto Ava’s, and then she's pulling up, stopping the car, and Ava looks up, surprised.

“Wait. We're here? I thought we were going into the city?” Sara shakes her head. Ava looks out the window, and a familiar sight greets her. “This is my favourite place in Starling. I've never talked about it? How did you know?”

Sara shrugs. “I asked Gary. He said that this is the nicest place in town, but you only let yourself go on special occasions. I figured this was a special occasion.”

“It is,” Ava says, but then she's looking down again.

“Ava?” Sara asks, worry tingeing her voice. “Did I make the wrong choice?”

Ava looks up, into Sara's eyes. There's obvious anxiety in them. “No. It's just— I just— I just assumed we were going into the city. Where not so many people know me. Everyone knows me, here. I've been coming to this restaurant a couple of times a year since I moved here. It's… scary. I haven't come out to anyone but you in… years. And now— and now this would be so many people at once. So many people I know. This is a popular Valentine's spot. Half the town is gonna be here. All my constituents. What if they— what if they vote me out because of this? What if—”

She's spiralling, panic rising in her. And then Sara leans over, tugs Ava's face towards her, and kisses her, both hands either side of Ava's face.

It's exactly what Ava needed. Her breathing slows. The panic recedes, slightly.

“Better?” Sara asks.

“Yeah. A little. I'm sorry. When you said— when you said you'd show everyone that I was… I was _yours_ ”—she whispers it, the word making her head spin, the way that all evidence of Sara being possessive does—“I thought you meant everyone in a— general sense, you know. Not… not people in my town.”

“Oh, Ava. I'm sorry. We don't have to do this. We can go back. We can go back and spend the evening with Zari and Charlotte and watch that movie about Valentine's Day with Taylor Swift in it—what's its name?”

“I think that would be ‘Valentine's Day’,” Ava supplies.

“Original.” Sara smiles a crooked grin. “Yeah. That one. We can go back, and spend it with them, and it's still going to magical. We don't have to do this. The only thing that matters is that I'm spending this evening with _you_ , Ava. That's all that matters. We don't have to do the date.”

Ava sighs. “No. I _want_ to do the date. I want to do it. I was just— I was just surprised. I shouldn't have been. I should've known it would be in town. I can do it. I love you. I want everyone to know that.” She sighs again. “And, I mean… was Charlotte right? Does everyone already know?”

Sara grimaces. “I don't think she was _super_ exaggerating when she said everyone was waiting for us to get together. From what I can tell, I don't think people knew you were gay. I think they just all looked me up and found out I was bi and saw what our relationship was like and were kinda… waiting for me to turn you. Or at least for you to figure out that you were into women. Which, obviously? Neither of those things had to happen, but they didn't know that. And we _have_ been living together for the past month. I think that _might_ be a clue as to what's going on.”

At that, Ava actually laughs. “Okay. Okay. You're right. I… can't keep hiding. It's 2019. I can do this. Nobody’s going to hate me.”

“That's the spirit, Aves,” Sara says, her voice a whisper. “They want you to be happy. The people you know want you to be happy. And if someone doesn't like it? Who cares? You've won all your elections by like 95%. I don't think a couple of homophobes are gonna make a difference. You're too good for this town, and everyone knows it. No-one’s letting you go, baby.”

“Yeah. Yeah. You're right.”

“Yes, I am,” Sara says, her eyes twinkling, before reaching across, pressing their foreheads together. “You got this.” She pauses, and then a smirk appears on her face again. “And look, I wasn't going to let you in on this until after, but since you're so nervous, I'm gonna give you a teaser.”

Ava pulls back, confused. “What—”

“Shh,” Sara says. “Give me your hand.”

Ava does, without questioning. Sara guides her hand lower, towards Sara's legs. She presses it underneath the hem of her shorts. Ava gasps, feels the edge of what she had assumed were tights, but is now realising must be stockings, and then her fingers shift slightly and she feels—

“You're wearing _suspenders?”_ Ava whispers, her mouth dry. Her fingers move higher without even thinking about it, tracing up Sara’s thigh.

“Mmhmm,” Sara hums—and then snatches Ava's hand away before it reaches whatever underwear she's wearing. “That's for later. No more spoilers.”

“Since when have you owned _suspenders_?” Ava asks, her mind racing, arousal flooding her body.

“That's for me to know,” Sara says, stroking her fingers over Ava's hand, “and you to find out.”

“I’m not wearing sexy underwear,” Ava says. “I didn’t even think about that.”

The tease leaves Sara’s expression. “You’re sexy in all your underwear, baby, but that’s not the point. Did that help you take your mind off things?”

Ava nods, dumbfounded. “Yeah. Yeah it did.” It's not a lie. She's more relaxed. She's less nervous. She feels better, mainly because she has Sara by her side, and she'd trust her with her life.

“Okay. Good. Then are you ready to do this?”

Ava nods, then frowns slightly, realising something. “Wait. Why did we drive here? It's a ten minute walk.”

Sara tilts her head. “Because, one, we’re both wearing heels, and, two, if we didn't drive, I wouldn't get to do this.”

“Do what?” Ava asks.

“Stay right there,” Sara says, then takes the keys from the ignition, stepping out of the car.

Ten seconds later, Ava's door opens. “This,” Sara says, smiling, holding her hand out for Ava. Ava takes it, lets herself get pulled up and out of the car.

They end up toe to toe, so close their lips are practically already touching. It reminds Ava of another time, a million years ago, when she'd begged Sara for a last kiss, when her heart had been completely and utterly shattered in two, when kissing Sara had felt like it was killing her.

Now, though…

Now she can tug Sara's face upwards, tilt it just right, and kiss her, and nothing is stopping them. She's not going to _let_ anything stop them. They went through too much pain to let fear of the unknown stop them now. So they're gonna do this. They're going to go on the date, and whatever happens is going to happen.

“Let's do this,” Ava whispers against Sara's mouth. “Let’s do this.”

Sara nods, reaches behind Ava to close the door. She locks it, then takes Ava's hand, before pausing. “You wanna walk in there holding hands?”

“We’re two people going to dinner all dressed up on Valentine's Day, babe. I think as soon as we walk in there, the jig is up, no matter whether we’re holding hands or not. So we might as well.”

Sara nods, tightens her grip on Ava's hand. “Got it.”

They start walking towards the restaurant. “I love you,” Ava murmurs. “If I start freaking out, that doesn't change that.”

Sara squeezes her hand. “I know, baby. I love you, too.”

Inside, it’s almost full. And, like Ava had expected, it’s full of people she recognises. She takes a breath, keeps following Sara, keeps letting herself be led. “Lance,” Sara says, when they reach the hostess. She’s called Pam. Ava knows her. Knows her husband. She’s known them for years. She’d even helped the restaurant stay open, a couple of years back, when there had been some worries about zoning. “Two of us.”

Pam looks up, and when she meets Ava’s eyes, her expression creases into a smile. “Mayor Sharpe! It’s so lovely to finally have you here on Valentine’s Day. Randy said that he was pretty sure the Lance reservation included you, but he wasn’t sure. I’m so glad it _is_ you.”

Ava smiles, grips Sara’s hand tighter. “Yep. It’s me. With my— girlfriend. Sara. Sara, this is Pam.”

She only chokes ever so slightly on the word girlfriend, so subtle that only Sara notices. She glances at Ava out of the corner of her eyes, as if to double check that Ava’s okay. When she registers the smile—nervous, but still there—on Ava’s face, she smiles as well, squeezing Ava’s hand again.

Pam beams at the two of them. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Sara. The whole town hasn’t stopped talking about you since you turned up.”

Ava stiffens, knowing that, at least at the beginning, Sara had hated knowing that people were talking about her. But Sara doesn’t even flinch, just grins, taking it easily in her stride. “All good, I hope.”

“Of course,” Pam says, good-naturedly. “This way,” she continues, and then turns away, leading them into the restaurant.

Sara turns to Ava again, drops a quick kiss on Ava’s bare shoulder. “You’re doing great,” she murmurs, before following Pam, still holding tight onto Ava’s hand.

As they walk through, Ava had been sure everyone would be staring, but they’re not. Sure, people glance up at them as they pass. Sure, they seem to register who Ava is, who she’s with. But they don’t stare. As soon as they’ve looked up, they look down again, disinterested, because they’re all engrossed in their own dates. No-one cares about the two of them, and it’s more freeing than Ava could’ve imagined.

The only person that looks up when they pass is Ray, his beam almost as wide as Pam’s, when he sees them. After they pass their table, Ava glances back, and there’s even a begrudging smile on Nora’s face. She’d always pretended not to care about Ava, but it’s clear that she does.

Eventually, after what seems like an age walking, but that can’t be more than thirty seconds, Pam settles them down in a booth, lights a candle, sets a bottle of champagne on the table. “It’s a set meal. You lovebirds don’t have to worry about ordering. The appetizer will be out soon.” She smiles once more at Ava. “It really is so lovely to have you here, Madame Mayor.”

Beside her, Sara shifts, ever so slightly. Ava blushes. “Thank you, Pam. But you can call me Ava. I’ve known you for years.”

Pam waves this away. “I’m going to keep calling you Mayor even when you eventually step down, darling. You earned that title. I’m going to use it.”

Ava smiles. “Okay. If you say so.”

“I do say so. Enjoy your food. I’ll leave you two to it,” Pam says, and then, with one last fond look at the two of them, she’s gone.

Ava lets out a breath, and Sara shuffles closer, snaking her arm around Ava’s waist, pressing her lips into Ava’s hair. “There you go, baby. That’s the hard part over,” she murmurs. “Now we just get to enjoy the evening.”

Ava turns to Sara, smiles. She reaches up to tuck some hair behind Sara’s ear. “Yeah,” she says. “Yeah, we do. Thank you for bringing us here. Letting everyone know… it feels good.”

The booth is private, but not completely closed off. People can still see them. And… Ava’s okay with that. The realisation hits her like a ton of bricks. She’s okay with that. She’s okay with being seen with Sara. She’s okay with everyone knowing that she’s in love, that Sara loves her back.

She’s okay with it.

“I love you,” Ava says, and then her hand is sliding down from Sara’s hair to the back of her neck, pulling her close. Sara lets out a slightly surprised noise, and then they’re kissing, and she melts into it, melts into Ava, one of her hands coming up to rest on Ava’s chest, the other still wrapped around her waist. When Ava pulls back, her hand is still around Sara’s neck. Sara’s eyes are still closed, her lips slightly parted, a blissful look on her face. “I love you so much, darling.”

Sara makes a contented noise, the smile on her lips growing. Her eyes flutter open, readjusting to the light. “We did it, babe. We kissed in public. The world is still spinning. You’re still mayor.” Her hand trails down Ava’s front, back to the slit in her dress. She slips her fingertips just barely under it. When she speaks, she’s lowered her voice even further. “And now everyone knows that you’re _mine_ ,” she says, and then she’s leaning in again, pressing her lips to Ava’s neck.

“Sara…” Ava protests, but it’s weak, because Sara’s mouth feels so good.

She doesn’t need to worry, though, because, after a few seconds, Sara pulls away, rearranges Ava’s hair back into place, and turns, so she’s facing the table again. “Don’t worry, Aves. I’m not going to cause a scandal. I’ll save the rest of that for our bedroom.” She pours a glass of champagne, hands it to Ava, and waits for Ava to take a sip before she says, matter of fact, her face completely straight, “I’m going to make you scream.” Ava chokes, trying not to spit out champagne all over her dress. Sara smirks. “Something I said?” she asks.

“Why am I in love with you?” Ava asks, shaking her head.

“Because of how good I am at oral,” Sara says, deadpan.

“Sara!” Ava gasps.

“Are you saying it's not true?” Sara asks, quirking an eyebrow.

“I mean, no, but… someone might hear you.”

“And then they'll know we have sex. Terrible,” Sara says, sarcastically.

“Sara…” Ava says, her voice a warning tone.

And then Sara smiles, the arch expression dropping from her face. “Just kidding, baby. No more teasing until we leave the restaurant. Promise. I'll keep everything PG-13,” she says, leaning over to kiss Ava's cheek.

“Pinky promise?” Ava asks.

Sara links their fingers. “Pinky promise. No more innuendos.”

Ava laughs. “I don't think it's innuendos if you're just straight up dirty talking.”

Sara tilts her head in acknowledgement. “Okay. No more dirty talk, then.”

Ava breathes out. “Thank you.”

And then Sara's fingers are on hers, easing the champagne glass from her fingers. “You looked like you were about to shatter it, babe,” she says, in explanation. “Relax. I didn't— I didn't really make you uncomfortable, did I?”

Ava shakes her head. “No. No. I would've made you stop quicker if I'd been that worried. Let's just… yeah, let's just keep it PG-13 for now.”

“Anything for you, Ava. Anything.”

Leaning into Sara's shoulder, Ava smiles. “Yeah, I know.”

They stay like that for a minute, silent. Sara's hand is still around Ava's waist, and she moves it slightly, rubbing her fingers into Ava's skin, soothing. They're startled out of their reverie by a waiter setting two plates of food down in front of them. It's some sort of pasta dish, delicate looking. As they start eating, the conversation falls into the easy chatter they have developed since living with each other.

Everything is easy with Sara. When she's not teasing Ava, she's happy to let Ava steer the conversation wherever she wants, happy to acquiesce and just listen to what Ava is talking about, and Ava loves her for it. It had been a long week for Ava, busy, and she'd been getting home late, hardly having time to say more than a couple of words to Sara and Charlotte before collapsing, and so it's nice to spill it all, with Sara eating and nodding, occasionally interjecting, occasionally reaching over to put a reassuring—but not teasing, not overtly sexual—hand on Ava's leg, Ava's shoulder, Ava's arm.

The movements often seem subconscious, like she's not thinking about doing it, like she's simply responding instinctively to what Ava needs.

When Ava is done going through the week, they've finished the appetiser. A waiter whisks it away, and Sara turns to Ava, smiles, and then suggests that they ask all the sorts of questions you would on a first date.

It's a good idea. They'd learnt each other backwards—they learnt all the deepest stuff first, and had never had time to talk through the light, insubstantial stuff.

It feels right to talk about that, to fall into easy storytelling, to learn little facts about Sara that she might not have thought to ask. Under the table, Sara twists their fingers together, not letting go until the waiter turns up with their food, an impressive looking steak to share. Sara pours herself her first glass of champagne, refills Ava’s, and Ava’s once again touched by the knowledge that Sara is limiting herself, obviously caring about the fact that she’s driving Ava back, even if it’s hardly a five minute drive.

Ava takes a sip, then automatically starts cutting the food up, and Sara laughs, stopping in the middle of her story. “Your mom instincts, huh?”

Ava pauses. “Sorry. Should I… not?”

“No. Keep going. If it's all cut up I can go back to holding you hand while we eat.”

It's such a soft statement, so dripping with love and affection and Sara's obvious need to be close to Ava, to touch her, to be linked as much as possible, especially because of what day it is, that Ava's a little overwhelmed for a second. And then she swallows, finishes cutting it up, and Sara reaches for her hand again, before launching straight back into her story, something about a school play and Peter Pan, but Ava's hardly listening, lost in the feeling of Sara's hand in hers, lost in Sara's eyes, in her animated expression.

In how her hair is falling so perfectly over her shoulder, how one side of her neck is completely exposed, how Ava wants to kiss her everywhere, but especially the smooth skin over her pulse point.

And then Sara's squeezing her hand. “Baby? Have I still got you? You looked like you zoned out a little.”

Ava ducks her head, blushes. “Sorry— you're— you look so good tonight, darling. I mean— I mean not that you don't look good all the time,” she adds, hastily. “Just— you look so good and I got distracted thinking about… later.”

Sara smirks, and then her expression shifts, becoming more earnest. “It's all I can think about, too, babe, but let's just enjoy this. We don't get this often. Let's enjoy this. Our bed’s still gonna be there when we get back.”

Ava laughs, then reaches for Sara's nose, tapping it. “You absolutely would've made more of a big deal about that if I hadn't banned dirty talk, wouldn't you?”

Sara shrugs. “What can I say? I'm considerate. I made a promise.”

Ava laughs again. “You made a promise. Strictly, I didn't,” she says, then leans over, her mouth to Sara's ear. Her voice,when she speaks, is a whisper. “I can't wait to touch you, Sara. I can't wait for you to touch me. I want you to make me feel good, babe. I want to make _you_ feel good.”

Ava is concentrating so much on her words that it's only when she finishes talking that she notices that Sara's grip on her hand has turned vice-like, her knuckles going white.

Sara groans, quietly. “You know how much I like it when you talk dirty. It's not fair doing it here when I've promised not to talk back.”

Ava shrugs, then reaches up to the corner of Sara's mouth, wiping a bit of food away, before leaning in and dropping a quick kiss there.

“Sometime life’s just hard that way, babe.”

Sara chucks a fry in Ava's direction. It lands on the napkin Ava had spread out on her lap. Sara tilts her head. “So _that's_ why you always put that napkin there.”

Ava rolls her eyes, plucks it out of her lap, setting it aside. “Among other things, yes. Although, I have to say, getting pelted with food by my girlfriend isn't top of the list.” And then Sara's smiling again, her faux annoyance gone. “What?” Ava asks, confused by the sudden beam on Sara's face. “Did I say something? Do I have something on my face?”

Sara shakes her head. “‘No, baby. I just— I love hearing you call me your girlfriend.”

Ava's heart melts, and she pulls Sara closer, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I love _calling_ you my girlfriend,” she murmurs, into Sara's hair. Sara's face is pressed into Ava's neck, and she can almost feel Sara smiling, can _definitely_ feel as she sighs, relaxing into Ava’s embrace. Her breath is warm on Ava’s neck, her body warm underneath Ava’s hand on her waist. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Sara mumbles against Ava’s neck, pressing the lightest of kisses down, before pulling away when Ava tugs her gently back.

“Come on, babe, let’s finish eating this before it gets cold. Time for being sappy later,” Ava says, a fond smile still on her face.

Sara pouts, but picks up her fork again. “I _like_ being sappy,” she says. Her voice gets smaller. “I haven’t had anyone to be sappy with for a long time.”

“I know, darling,” Ava says. “Neither have I. Neither have I. But we’ve got all the time in the world to be sappy, and this is going to get cold, and I happen to know that it’s not cheap.”

At that, Sara laughs, tucks back in. When it’s done, after it’s been taken away, there’s a break before the dessert turns up, Sara leans back into Ava’s shoulder, and their conversation turns back to Charlotte, like it almost always does. Sara lets Ava know a couple of things she missed while working long hours. Ava goes through what she has on at school the week after the break. It’s the easiest thing to talk about.

Ava never thought she'd find someone who would be able to deal with someone with a child, let alone someone who would love her just as much as Ava does, but now Sara is here, a grin on her face as Ava reminds her about a play Charlotte’s in, about some project she's working on. Ava falls in love with her more.

The dessert gets delivered, and it's tiny, two small plates of chocolate, but Ava's glad, because she doesn't want to overeat.

Sara insists on feeding her some of it, and Ava lets her, because it's Valentine's Day, and, in any case, it's cute. It’s loveable. It's overly-affectionate, and Ava loves it. She loves it even more when Sara reaches over, her turn to use her thumb to wipe chocolate from the edge of Ava's mouth, the touch dripping with fondness.

And then Ava licks her spoon, not even thinking about it, and catches Sara's eyes on her, her pupils dilating, her mouth slightly open, and for a second, the tension in the air between them spikes, something injected into it other than innocent affection.

A second later, Sara blinks, looks away, and Ava doesn't say anything, just files that look away, for later.

By the time they're done with the food, it's still an hour until they're due back. Despite the fact that Ava knows they're both eager to be back home, to be _doing things_ , it's obvious neither of them want to leave quite just yet. Sara leans back into Ava's embrace, her head on Ava's shoulder.

The champagne isn't done, but the waiter, when he arrives to take away their plates, corks it at their request.

“More for later,” Sara whispers into Ava's ear, as he walks away.

Ava shivers.

The night draws further in. The candle on their table melts slowly downwards, wax dripping onto the table. Sara makes patterns in the wax with her fingers, but her eyes are always intent on Ava. The conversation flows easily, just meaningless small talk at this point, until Ava rests her hand absentmindedly on Sara's thigh, and then remembers what's underneath her clothes. She stiffens, arousal flooding her body, and, suddenly, small talk, talk about anything other than getting Sara's playsuit off of her, about seeing what the hell she’s wearing underneath, seems impossible.

She downs her glass of champagne, then looks at her phone. It's ten to eleven. Later than she'd thought. They can leave. All she has to do is voice her desire, and Sara will be ready to leave. She decides to do a little more, her fingers pressing underneath Sara's shorts again, finding the suspender, toying with it. Sara gasps, then grits her teeth, and she's obviously turned on as well. Ava can see her trying not to react in a way that would go against her promise, in a way that would be inappropriate in public.

“Let's get out of here, Sara. I need you.”

Sara nods, as if in a trance, and then, ten seconds later, they're up, walking back towards the front. Ava has one hand in the small of Sara’s back, and Sara leans into her as they walk. They're paid moments later.

The second they hit the cold air outside, Sara's expression shifts, and, when they turn down the alley where they parked, she pushes Ava up against a wall, kissing her so hard that Ava can't breathe, can't think, can't do anything except feel.

When Sara pulls back, it's only half an inch. “I'm going to make you feel _so good_ , baby, you're not going to know what hit you.” She pauses for a second, then says, “Neck,” and all Ava can do is tilt her head back obediently, let Sara finally get at it the way she wanted to in the restaurant. She can feeling Sara sucking a hickey, but she can't even bring herself to care, because Sara is making her feel good with just this, and her hands are roaming over Ava's body. She licks a stripe down Ava's neck, down over the bruise she's just made—

And then she pulls away in an obvious tease, grabbing Ava's hand, unlocking the car, and gently pushing Ava—still slightly dumbstruck, her fingers going to the sensitive spot on her neck—down into the seat. A second later, Sara slides into the driver’s seat.

While they drive, they’re both silent. Ava’s fingers drum against her clutch. She can’t think about anything but getting Sara to kiss her again. When they pull up to the house, Sara turns off the ignition. Ava bites her lip, looks at the house. The living room light is on. Charlotte’s light is off, but that’s not inalienable proof that Charlotte is asleep.

“What do we do if she’s not gone to bed yet?” Ava asks.

“Wait, I guess,” Sara says, shrugging. She glances over at Ava, and there’s a moment of shared recognition between them, and then Ava’s reaching across, pulling Sara into her lap, tugging her face downwards, kissing her.

“Not sex,” Ava confirms. “Just— just in case we have to wait. I needed to kiss you again.”

Sara nods, rocking in closer, kissing Ava in a fever. After a few seconds, Ava moves her mouth down, past Sara’s jaw, to her neck. Sara reaches over blindly for her purse, pulling her phone out. “I’m gonna text Zari,” Sara gasps out, in explanation. “I need to know before we go in there if she’s asleep.”

Ava nods, trails her mouth down further. One of her hands is around Sara’s waist. The other creeps up towards her shoulder, and she’s about to pull the fabric down slightly, try to get some more of a hint of whatever Sara is wearing underneath, and then Sara twists her torso away, tutting, still focused on her phone.

“No peeking, baby,” she says. “It’s gonna be so much better if it’s a surprise.”

Ava nods, resigned to it, goes back to pressing kisses to the skin that’s already on show, to the edge of her collarbone, the hollow of her neck, and then Sara’s throwing the phone down, grabbing Ava’s face, kissing her, even harder than before.

“She’s asleep, Ava. Zari says she’s asleep.”

Ava nods again, dropping one last kiss on Sara’s lips before Sara’s scrambling out of her lap, out of the door, pulling Ava up again.

The wind is cold, and they rush inside to get out of it. Zari’s already all packed up, a smirk on her face. Ava knows they both look a mess, knows her dress is crumpled and there’s a hickey on her neck, and she can’t even begin to try to care.

“That time you were definitely—”

“Making out,” Sara finishes. “Yes. We were making out. You win, Zari. Are you happy?”

Zari raises an eyebrow. “Very, thank you.”

“What do we owe you?” Ava asks, her voice more out of breath than she would like.

“Well. Normal rate would be $40, but since we’re friends you get friends rate, which is $20, _but_ , I did spend an hour running around with Charlotte and then dosing her up with warm drinks so she’d be super tired and dead asleep when you came back, so I feel like that warrants at _least_ another $10. Then again, I _did_ eat like three slices of cake and drink some of your whiskey once she had gone to sleep, so it's up to you guys, really.”

Ava rolls her eyes, digs into her purse, and then pulls out $40, chucking it at Zari. Zari grins in a self-satisfied kind of way. “Have fun, ladies.”

Ava groans. “Never speak of this again, Zari.”

Zari mimes zipping her mouth closed, and then she’s gone.

The second the door shuts behind her, Sara turns to look up at Ava, an eyebrow raised, her lips pressed together. “You wanna know what’s under this outfit?” she asks, her voice somehow still innocent. Ava nods, suddenly speechless. Sara smiles, eases the clutch out of Ava’s fingers, sets her own down, then intertwines their fingers, and leads Ava up the stairs.

There are no sounds from Charlotte’s room. Sara pauses at their door, leaning up against it, looking at Ava, her expression impossibly fond. She reaches up, strokes her hand over Ava’s cheek. “I love you so much, Ava.”

All Ava can do is smile back, her heart in her mouth. She was determined that this night be special, and it’s already surpassed every one of her expectations, and they haven’t even made it to the bedroom yet. And then Sara reaches down, pushes open the door, pulling them both in, and Ava gasps.

Behind her, she hears their lock clicking shut, but she’s not concentrating on that. She’s looking at the room.

It’s tidy. She’d left it covered in clothes, but they’re gone, put away. There’s a candle lit on the dresser, another on their vanity. The only other source of light in the room is their ceiling lamp on its dimmest setting, and it’s filled the room with a soft glow, flickering from the candles. Sara sets the half empty champagne down, and it’s only when Ava looks where she’s placed it that she notices there’s more champagne there, two glasses ready to be used. Sara squeezes Ava’s hand, looking up at her, her expression hopeful.

“You managed to persuade Zari to do all this?” Ava asks, her voice incredulous.

“I told you, she’s secretly a softie.” Sara tilts her head, reaching up to Ava’s face again. “You forget. She’s been here much longer than I have. She wants you to be happy. Everyone does.”

Ava smiles, and she can feel tears pushing at her tear ducts. She sniffs, and Sara shakes her head. “Nope. No crying tonight. Or,” she says, considering, pressing her lips together again, “only because of how good I’m going to make you feel.” And, just like that, the overwhelming sensation that she’s about to cry is gone, and she’s ready again. Ready to finally feel Sara properly. Ready to end the best Valentine’s Day she’s ever had in the best possible way.

Sara guides her over to the bed, presses Ava down until she’s sitting on the edge. She ducks down, pulls Ava’s shoes off her feet. When Ava twists, going for the zip on the back of her dress, Sara shakes her head. “Not yet.”

“What are you doing?” Ava asks, her forehead creasing.

“You’ll see,” Sara says, standing up. Ava has to tilt her head upwards to meet Sara’s eyeline, and it’s novel. She bends down, presses a kiss to Ava’s temple, smoothing her hair down, and then whispers, “Close your eyes.”

“What?” Ava asks, confused.

Sara leans her forehead against Ava’s, repeats it. “Close your eyes, baby,” she says, her voice firm, and so Ava does, letting her eyes flutter closed. Every other sense is immediately heightened, and when Sara drops a kiss on one eyelid and then the other, it feels like so much more than a split second of contact.

A moment later, though, Sara withdraws from her completely. “Sara…” Ava murmurs, trying not to sound needy, but already missing the contact.

“One second more,” comes Sara’s voice.

Ava can hear the rustling of clothing. In her lap, her fingers twist. The room smells vaguely like vanilla, presumably from the candles. And then she can hear Sara walking towards her. “Are you ready for your surprise… Madame Mayor?” Sara says, rolling the name off of her tongue. Her voice is like silk. Slippery and shiny and _dangerous._

Ava groans at the use of her title. Not many people use it. Most people just call her Ava, or just Mayor. She’d been hoping Sara wouldn’t find out about it, because she had just _known_ Sara would pull it out in exactly this situation, and then she’d have to admit to herself how turned on it makes her feel.

She can almost hear Sara smirking. She knows her reaction has to have been obvious.

“Hands by your side, Ava,” Sara says. “No touching until you open your eyes.” Ava doesn’t immediately obey, and then she feels Sara’s fingers on hers, gently moving her hands apart, setting them by her sides. “Don’t worry, Aves. You’re not going to have to wait long. Trust me.”

“I do,” Ava says, and she’s rewarded by the feeling of Sara’s weight in her lap, her legs bracketing Ava’s. The next thing she knows, Sara’s fingers are on her face, and she’s being kissed. Despite her desire to touch Sara, she keeps her hands where they are, by their side.

And then Sara pulls back, her arms resting on Ava’s shoulders, and breathes, “Okay. Open your eyes.”

Ava does, and the second her eyes register what Sara is wearing, her mouth falls open. “Oh, sweet god.”

“ _Now_ you can touch,” Sara says, her voice gentle, but Ava can’t move. She’s frozen, her hands gripping down into the sheets. Sara laughs, leans in to kiss Ava, and then her hands are easing Ava’s away from the sheets, settling them on her waist, on the strip of skin that is bare, not covered by the… lace concoction that Sara is wearing.

Ava doesn’t even know what to call it. All she knows is that she is unbelievably turned on, that Sara looks impossibly perfect with black lace hugging her figure. Ava shifts her fingers slightly, pressing underneath the edge of the lace, her thumb stroking over Sara’s stomach muscles, enraptured by the way they tense under her fingertips.

Her other hand moves lower, back to the suspenders, the suspenders that had been so much more than she’d expected, that have now been blown out of the water by the rest of the get up. She lets her gaze move upwards, and it settles on Sara’s breasts, laced in to the lingerie. All the while, Sara has been silent, just letting Ava drink it in, her chest rising and falling minutely as she breathes.

When Ava manages to get another word out, it’s just, “Sara,” her voice a strangled whisper. Sara's brings her fingers to Ava's chin, tilting her gaze upwards. Ava's mouth is still slightly open, and Sara moves to fingers further up, tracing a path around Ava's lips.

Sara smiles down at her, leaning her head towards Ava, her hair falling in perfect curls around her face. Her eyes seem bluer than usual, icey cold but still warmer than anything Ava has ever seen. “You like it?” Sara asks, and all Ava can do is nod.

Her fingers slide around Sara’s waist, tracing the strip of fabric cutting through her midriff, following it to where it ends in the small of her back, and then uses that grip to pull Sara closer, until their stomachs are touching.

Sara doesn’t need to be told what Ava wants. Her hands slide back into Ava’s hair, and she pulls Ava’s face close, kissing her, teasing her lips with her tongue, scratching gently at her scalp. When Ava’s mouth falls open under Sara’s ministrations, Sara presses in deeper, rocking her hips against Ava’s. Ava moves the hand that was toying with the suspenders up to Sara’s waist, moves the hand on the small of her back up to Sara’s neck, cupping it, keeping her close.

And then something hard scrapes along Ava’s leg, and she realises Sara is still wearing the heels, and she can’t help the moan that falls from her lips, only partly swallowed by Sara’s mouth. Sara pulls back, a smirk on her face. “You want me to put you out of your misery?”

If it’s misery, it’s the best kind. Ava would happily sit here for the rest of her life, Sara warm and close under her fingertips. “Not misery,” she gasps out, her words slightly wavering as Sara rocks her hips again.

But then Sara is moving her hand, is picking up Ava’s hand on her waist, is moving it up to the curve of her breast, and Ava moans again, and maybe the wait _is_ a little like torture. The fabric is thin, hardly anything between Ava’s fingers and the skin of Sara’s breasts. She tears her gaze away from Sara’s chest, looks up at Sara. “I want to—”

“Shh,” Sara says. “You don’t have to ask.”

So Ava doesn’t, burying her face in Sara’s neck, kissing downwards, over her collarbone, over her sternum, and then finally her mouth is on the soft tissue of her breasts. She kisses every bit of skin on show, teases the edge of the lace with her teeth. Underneath her hands, Sara trembles, her own fingers gripping down on Ava’s body, so hard Ava wonders if she’s going to bruise.

Every sound from Sara goes straight to the join of her legs, until it’s too much to bear. “Sara,” she says, her mouth still pressed against her chest. “I need you. Please. Please.”

Sara smiles. "It's okay. I got you, baby. It's okay."

She stands up, and Ava lets out a whimper that she's too far gone to be embarrassed by. She wants Sara back in her lap, doesn't want her gone again, leaving Ava cold, alone, needy. Sara just smiles, holds out her hand, and Ava gratefully takes it, lets herself be pulled up. They're toe to toe for the third time tonight, but, this time, with Sara still in her heels, and Ava barefooted, Sara's eye level with her, and it's strange, but still wonderful.

She gasps, lightly, at the image in front of her. She's not used to being in this position, having Sara at her height, and she likes it. Sara can obviously tell that she does. She's still smiling, her expression soft, beautiful. An angel in black lace in the low light. She leans forward, kisses Ava again. When she pulls back, her voice has gotten even lower, and every syllable sends pulses of need through Ava's body. "Turn around, Ava. Turn around."

Ava does, spinning around without even thinking about it. Behind her, Sara steps closer, and then she's sweeping Ava's hair over one shoulder. Her hands are gentle as they trace over the nape of Ava's neck, moving down over the top of her spine, spreading out over her back. Ava knows her back is covered in goosebumps, and Ava wonders if Sara has noticed. Then Sara’s stepping even closer, so that she's pressed against Ava's back, the only thing between their skin two layers of fabric.

Two layers that Ava wants _gone._

Sara doesn't do that quite yet, though. Instead, her mouth follows the path her fingers had just taken, pressing kisses to the skin on Ava's back.

And then, finally, finally, after what seems like an hour of teasing, Ava feels Sara's fingers on the hidden button at the top of her zipper. Deft fingers undo it, pulling it out of its catch, before moving to the zipper, pulling it down slowly. So slowly.

When it reaches the bottom, the dress falls away easily, sliding down the arms that Ava holds limp at her side, unable to move them, unable to do anything but concentrate on staying standing.

It pools on the floor, expensive navy fabric creating a deep, dark, black hole on their floor, looking darker than it actually is because of the low light. Sara's hands snake around to Ava's face, twisting it, kissing her over her shoulder, before spinning Ava back around so that they're facing each other again. Sara's eyes roam unabashedly over Ava's almost naked body. Ava glances down, grimaces. "I told you," she struggles out. "Not sexy underwear."

It's just a basic strapless bra, some black panties that aren't the _least_ sexy she owns, but definitely aren't the most—although even her most sexy definitely comes nowhere near to the lingerie Sara is wearing. Sara shakes her head, her fingers trailing down on Ava's body. "Definitely sexy. We match." That's true, at least. The panties have a lace trim, so if you squint, they almost do. Sara keeps tracing her eyes over Ava, continuing. "You look perfect in anything, Ava." Her voice is so earnest, so utterly utterly honest, that Ava can't help but believe her. "You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen. I'm going to make you feel so goddamn good, babe. So good. And, in any case, it doesn't matter what your underwear looks like. You're not going to be wearing it for long."

As if to illustrate her words, Sara is already hooking her fingers underneath the waistband of Ava's panties, tugging them down her hips just ever so slightly. But Ava panics a little, grabbing at Sara's wrist. Sara looks up, a little shocked, and then Ava's brain catches up to what her hand just did, realises why she did it, and she's blushing. "Baby?" Sara asks. "What is it? You don't want to do this anymore? You want to stop?"

“No,” Ava says, hastily, needing to get that out of the way. And then she’s leaning into Sara’s shoulder, embarrassed, hiding her face. “I don’t want you to— I don’t want you to take it off.”

Sara pulls Ava’s face back, hands on both of her cheeks. There’s another smirk on her face. “‘It’ being?” She knows what Ava means. She just wants to hear her say it.

Ava sighs, plucks at the lace in front of her. “This. I don’t even— I don’t even know what to call it. But. This.”

“Well,” Sara says. “I think _strictly_ , it’s called a teddy. But you don’t need to worry. I’m not taking it off yet.” She pulls Ava back in for a kiss, and it’s soft, sweet, gentle—until one of her hands reaches around Ava’s back, has the clasp of her bra undone in seconds. It falls to the floor, and then Sara is pushing Ava lightly backwards, guiding her up the bed until she’s resting on the pillows.

Sara hovers above her, narrowing Ava’s world to just the two of them, and then leans down, kissing her, letting her fingers roam over Ava’s torso, over her breasts, over the delicate lines of her stomach, down towards her thighs, squeezing lightly. After thirty seconds, Sara pulls back, and Ava gasps for breath, her head spinning. The rush of oxygen to her brain only makes it feel better when Sara starts to trail kisses down her body.

And then Ava realises how slowly Sara is going, how much attention she’s paying to each and every single spot that she lays her mouth on, and something in Ava’s brain short-circuits, because she can tell where Sara is going, knows what to expect when she gets there—but she has no idea how long it’s going to be before she does.

As Sara moves slowly down Ava’s body, the lace of her teddy slip slides against Ava’s skin, the additional sensation, the tactility of it sending her brain into overdrive.

A few minutes later, Sara is only just on her breasts, teasing them with her teeth, kissing and sucking and licking, and Ava eyes roll back a little, her mouth falling open, her hand coming up to grip down into Sara’s hair. Another whimper escapes her mouth when Sara finally moves further downwards. Her hands move down to Ava’s hips, holding her tight against the bed. “Nearly there,” Sara whispers against Ava’s stomach, her thumbs rubbing circles into Ava’s muscles, soothing.

When Sara reaches the hem of Ava’s panties, she glances up at Ava, and then, without breaking eye contact, bites down on the fabric, pulling it down with her teeth, and Ava lets out another moan, slinging her arm across her face, biting down on her lip.

Sara drags the underwear down Ava’s legs, slowly—because, of course slowly—letting Ava feel every single moment of its movement, ramping her up further and further, until Ava feels a little like she's about to break with the tension. And then the fabric is gone, thrown somewhere behind Sara, and Ava is completely naked. When Sara sits back, there's a look of awe on her face as she takes Ava in.

"You're so beautiful, baby. You're so beautiful. I love you so much," she says, her hands still stroking lightly over Ava's skin.

It's almost absurd, coming from her, straddling Ava's thighs and _still_ looking like an angel in black lace. There's a light shining behind her, and it makes her hair glow, makes her look like she really is surrounded by a halo.

Ava doesn't know how she got this lucky.

All she can get out is, "Please."

Sara just smiles, but doesn't move to do anything, not yet, and Ava wonders if maybe she's not an angel, if she's the devil, determined to build her up higher and higher and never offer any relief. But then Sara is shifting, parting Ava's legs, settling between them. She twists her head to the left, lays a kiss on Ava's inner thigh, then switches sides, doing the same for the other leg. The kisses tickle, but also ache deep in Ava's belly, as she yearns for something more.

She needs it, more than she's needed anything since the first time they'd had sex. She needs it more than air, more than life. She needs Sara. Her girlfriend. Her girlfriend, who she loves, who she's just celebrated Valentine's Day with. She _needs_ her. Sara is still nipping at the inside of her thighs, and Ava closes her eyes, zones out a little, overcome with aching want.

She's just about to open her mouth to beg again, when she feels Sara shift slightly, and then, without warning, there's a hot mouth on her—and Ava yells, as close to a scream as she will let herself go. Even half gone with need, there's still a part of her mind, at the back, that is thinking about Charlotte. Partly selfishly, because she doesn't want them disturbed, partly selfless, because she doesn't want Charlotte worried.

So she just yells out, instead of fully letting herself go, but it's enough. She can feel Sara smirking against her, satisfied, because she's done what she wanted with one touch of her tongue, and it's only going to get better. The yell turns into a long, drawn out moan, and Ava arches off the bed as Sara flicks her tongue, weaves it, does everything that she knows Ava likes.

"Don't stop," Ava gasps. "Don't stop. Please, darling, don't stop."

Sara just finds Ava's hand, squeezing it, relaxing her. Her mouth still moves against Ava, slowing and quickening in a rhythm that's impossible to predict, keeping Ava guessing as to what's going to happen next. It's frustrating, but also the best thing she's ever felt. She feels a little like she's floating, and she tangles her hands into Sara's hair just to keep herself grounded.

Heat is weaving through her stomach, getting closer and closer to being white hot, but it recedes every time Sara slows down a little, and then returns like it was never gone every time she presses in further, working into Ava like she's been doing this for thirty years not thirty days, like she was born to make Ava feel this good. Ava's grip on Sara's hair gets tighter, her legs clamp around Sara's shoulders, inadvertently pushing her in deeper.

Sara knows exactly how to push every single one of her buttons, to leave her gasping and desperate for more. There's a light sheen of sweat over Ava's whole body. Her breathing is getting faster, trying to suck in enough air, trying to make sure that when she inevitably peaks she doesn't literally black out. She's mumbling words, and even she doesn't know what it is she's saying. Sara just hums against her, as though she can decipher the helpless stammers escaping from Ava's mouth.

And then Ava tenses, the heat rushing through her even more powerfully than before, and she feels like, even if Sara stopped now, she wouldn't start falling back down. She's on a rollercoaster that only goes up, her back arching again, her hands turning into fists with a vice-like grip on Sara's hair, and the noises coming from her mouth are nothing but gasps anymore, not even close to words, just sounds, trying not to be too loud, but almost completely losing control.

Sara notices, and her tongue gets more insistent than even before, because she knows Ava's body inside out, knows that she's close, and then she does _something,_ something that Ava isn't even sure what it is, but just knows that suddenly fireworks are exploding in her stomach, spreading throughout her entire body, and she's tensing up even more, every single muscle in her body contracting, and then relaxing, slumping against the pillows, her eyes falling closed, speechless for the first time in minutes. Sara stays where she is until Ava's stopped moving, and then she pulls back, presses another kiss to Ava's thigh, before looking up towards Ava. "How was that?" she asks, the smallest smirk on her face, like she already knows the answer.

Ava still can't speak. She knows she's a mess. Knows there's hair stuck to her forehead. Knows her chest is heaving. She reaches out for the pillow next to her, chucking it at Sara. Sara catches, laughing.

"Am I supposed to take that as a, 'Yes, it was good?'" Sara asks. "Or am I supposed to take that as a, 'Sara, you should keep going?’ Because I really want to keep going, baby. I really want to make you feel good again. Can I make you feel good again?”

Ava shouldn’t want more already, but the second Sara says that, she’s ready again, clenching down on nothing. She nods, needing more, and it’s like Sara can read her mind, because a second later, there are fingers moving inside of Ava, and Sara is pressing back up to kiss Ava. She can taste herself on Sara’s tongue, and she has to stifle a moan, as Sara works into her, as she kisses her deeper, as one of her hands moves up to cup Ava's cheek.

She's always so good at this, so careful, so tender. Ava eyes are closed, and she's just feeling, just living in the moment. And then Sara speaks, her voice low, coaxing Ava towards her peak again, always moving her hand, always keeping going, but complementing it with her voice, a hoarse whisper in Ava's ear, dropping compliments and assurances and affirmations on her, relaxing Ava like no-one else can.

Like no-one else had ever been able to.

It doesn't take long, the second time, not with how high Ava had already risen the first time. It wasn't going to take much effort to get her there again, and, so when, minutes later, Sara presses her thumb down, bites Ava's lip, she falls, shivering. It doesn't hit her quite as hard this time, but it lasts longer, Sara's fingers drawing out the aftershocks. When Sara eventually withdraws her hand, Ava is not sure she's ever felt this good. When she opens her eyes, Sara is smiling at her, her expression beatific.

She really is an angel.

Ava stretches, staring up at Sara, at her girlfriend, at how unbelievably good she still looks. Ava glances at her hair, can see that it's fallen almost completely out of the style she had so carefully teased it into, and yet Sara is sitting above her with the perfect curls still falling over her shoulders, as if she'd only just styled it. Ava wants to mess that up a bit, wants to get a flush spreading across her body, wants to make the arousal she knows Sara has to be feeling on the inside show on the outside.

She pushes herself upwards, propping herself up against the headboard, and beckons Sara closer, until she's in her lap again. Sara is still smiling at her, her smile getting wider when Ava grips down on her waist again, presses her fingers underneath the lace again. Ava pulls her closer, until she can whisper in Sara's ear again. "Your turn, my love," she says, quietly, revelling in the way she feels Sara shiver at the words. "Your turn."

"Please, baby," Sara whispers, and there's immediately want in her voice that wasn't there before, now that she's taken care of Ava, now that she can be more selfish. Ava lives for that moment, when she lets her walls break down a little, admits to herself that she wants this as well, that she's desperate, that she needs Ava to pull her apart and put her back together again.

"Anything for you, Sara," Ava says, her voice raw. "Anything," she repeats, and then her fingers are going to the lace on the front of the teddy, picking apart the bow at the top with delicate fingers, pulling the lace entirely out, until the front falls open.

Sara looks down, laughs lightly. "You know, there's a normal bra clasp at the back. I don't think you had to take out the lace. It took me like five minutes to thread that."

"Oops," Ava says, her fingers pressing up into the skin on show now the lace is gone, sliding underneath the straps, pulling them down Sara’s arms. She’s sad to see it go, though, a pout landing on her face, and Sara laughs again.

“Don’t worry. This isn’t the last you’ve seen of this, Ava,” she confirms. “I’m definitely going to be bringing it out ag—” and then her words are interrupted when Ava surges forward, kissing her, pulling her upwards to her knees with one hand, still tugging the lace down Sara’s body with the other.

Five seconds later, it’s gone, and, as much as Ava is loathe to see it go, there’s something so utterly breathtaking about Sara when she’s completely naked in front of her, when ever wall she puts up has finally been pulled down, when she’s just Sara, freckles over her entire body, freckles that Ava is determined to one day spend a night kissing each and every single one.

When she’s just _her_.

They’re still pressed up on their knees, and Ava gently guides Sara backwards, until her hair is spread out on the pillow like another halo.

“I’d ask you what you want, but I think I already know,” Ava says, this time her turn for there to be a slight smirk on her face. Sara raises an eyebrow. “You weren’t exactly subtle staring at my tongue all dinner, babe,” she continues, her voice teasing, one of her hands on Sara’s hip, the other reaching up to tuck some of Sara’s hair behind her ear.

“Oh,” Sara says, smiling, and there’s just the tiniest hint of a blush on her cheeks before it is replaced with unabashed want. “You’ve got such a good tongue, baby. Such a good mouth.” Her fingers creep up Ava’s skin, still teasing, and all of a sudden it’s Ava blushing again, ducking her head, feeling her cheeks burn even more when Sara pulls her down, whispers, “Show me how good it is, Ava, please.”

Ava nods, presses a kiss to her lips, whispers, “Ready?”, sliding down her body, laying kisses on her breasts, her stomach, as she moves downwards.

“Yes,” Sara whispers. “Please.”

She’s saying please more than she usually does, and Ava gets the feeling that Sara doesn’t want to have to wait, and that works fine for Ava, because she doesn’t want to wait either. Doesn’t want to have to wait to make Sara feel as good as she made Ava feel.

In any case, Sara has already waited long enough. Her whole body is tense, wound up, her muscles clenched. Ava sets a soothing hand on her stomach, and Sara grips down, clutching hold of it. The other hand finds Ava's head, guiding it downwards, and Ava doesn't resist, just gives herself over to making Sara feel good, to making her fall and fly and peak and crest like Ava had.

When Ava's tongue hits her, she relaxes completely, all of the tension immediately dissipating from her body as she relaxes into Ava's mouth, letting herself sink into the feeling. Ava loves it, loves feeling Sara let go. She's always so responsive, and this time is no different. She's not as vocal as Ava is, but she's gripping down onto Ava's hair, she's digging her nails into Ava's palm, and it's perfect. She's shaking a little, her legs trembling slightly.

But then Ava speeds up, and Sara finally starts making actual noises, and it's suddenly even better than perfect, it's better than anything, because she's really completely let go, and it's only a couple of minutes later that Ava adds a finger, and Sara comes, a gasp and then a drawn out sound escaping from her mouth. Her eyes are closed. There's a lazy smile on her face.

After letting Sara fall back down from the high, Ava looks up. Sara's eyes are still closed. Ava taps Sara's hip. "I still got you, babe?" she asks. "You haven't fallen asleep on me?"

The smile on Sara's face grows. "I'm not _that_ easy to wear out, Ava," she mumbles, the words coming out half formed, obviously still a little out of it. Ava laughs, stroking again over the skin where her hand is resting, before pushing off the bed. Sara eye's snap open. "Where are you going?" she asks, sounding a little hurt.

Pointing behind her, Ava says, "Champagne, babe. Let's finish it tonight. Since, you know, we can sleep in."

At that, Sara nods, closing her eyes again, her chest rising and falling steadily. Before pouring two glasses, Ava finds a robe, wrapping it around herself. She feels weird hanging out completely naked, and Sara knows that. When she sits back down, tucking her legs underneath her, Sara has also sat back up. _She’s_ still naked, and Ava can't help but stare a little, can't help but stare as Sara takes a sip, as she swallows, watching the line of her throat, knowing she's watching a little too intensely.

"See something you like?" Sara asks, raising an eyebrow.

"I like all of you," Ava says quietly, raising the glass to her lips.

At that, a fond smile stretches again over Sara's face. "I'm here, butt naked, and you're being _soft._ That's so cute. You're so cute. I love you so much, Ava. So much."

Ava smiles back, leans in, joining their lips together. They both taste like champagne.

They taste even more like champagne when, an hour and a half later, they've finished the first bottle, and the second one as well. They're both more than a little tipsy when Sara slips her fingers under Ava's robe, touches her gently until she comes again, biting down on Sara's shoulder, her eyes screwed shut, clutching onto Sara like her life depends on it. They're _much_ more than a little tipsy when Ava pulls Sara down on top of her, when she reaches downwards, fumbling for the join of her legs, when Sara finishes, laughing, her hair falling in Ava’s face.

She rolls off of Ava’s body, slumping against the pillows. Ava turns her head, looks at the clock. It’s past one, and the alcohol is setting in, sleep trying to drag her under. In the back of her mind, though, there are things she feels like she needs to do.

She pulls herself out of bed, stumbling around the room. The first thing she notices is the candles, burning down to their wicks, and she blows them out. The room suddenly gets darker. In their mirror, she can see that her makeup is smudged, and, as she makes her way towards the bathroom, she makes a note to pick up a packet of wipes. She unlocks the door, finally turning the ceiling light completely off.

She pours herself a glass of water, and then slowly walks back through the room, pulling out something that looks like it might be one of Sara’s sleep shirts from the dresser. When she collapses back on the bed, Sara is already trying to sleep, curled up in the middle of the bed. Ava pokes her. “Don’t go to sleep quite just yet, babe. Just a few more things.”

Sara groans, but accepts the shirt, pulling it on, without having to question why that’s necessary. She accepts the water, downing the rest of the glass. Ava hands her a makeup wipe, and Sara looks at it, frowning, like she has no idea what she’s supposed to do with it.

Ava laughs, whispers, “Close your eyes,” and, when Sara does, wipes gently over her face, getting at least some of the makeup off. When she pulls back, Sara’s eyes blink open.

“Sleep now?” Sara mumbles, falling against the pillow again.

“Mhmm,” Ava hums, smoothing hair out of Sara’s face. “Sleep now, darling. I love you.”

Sara reaches out a blind hand, pulling Ava down towards her, and Ava lets herself be pulled down, settling her arms around Sara. She’s warm, and soft. Her hair smells like the shampoo they use. Her back fits perfectly against Ava’s front, like they were made for each other.

The last thing Ava hears, before she lets sleep take her, is another mumble from Sara, who Ava had been sure had already fallen asleep. “Love you too, baby.”

 

When Ava wakes up, late into the morning, Sara is already awake, staring at her. “Morning,” Sara whispers, sliding closer, tangling their legs together.

“Morning,” Ava whispers back, her hand coming up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind Sara’s ear.

Sara smiles, gets her hand on Ava’s waist, pulling herself even closer, so that her head is tucked under Ava’s chin. “Was that a good first Valentine’s Day?” she asks, her mouth against Ava’s neck.

Ava’s hand cups the back of Sara’s head, and she drops a kiss on the top of it. “It was the best first Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had, Sara. Best Valentine’s Day full stop.”

“Mmm,” Sara hums, obviously satisfied. “Guess I’m going to have to try to top it next year.”

It’s not like they didn’t go into this planning for something long term, but, still, Sara casually talking about next year already gives Ava goosebumps.

Her hand moves down to Sara’s back, and then she feels the fabric underneath her hands, and it doesn’t feel like one of Sara’s normal shirts. She pushes Sara away slightly so she can see the front, and then laughs. “I guess you went to Stanford now, babe,” she says, plucking at the shirt, one from her law school days that she’d obviously managed to mistake for one of Sara’s in the dark and while drunk.

Sara looks down, her expression more than fond when she realises she’s wearing one of Ava’s shirts. “I bet you were _hot_ in law school,” she says, pursing her lips together.

“I was extremely nerdy,” Ava says, laughing.

Sara shrugs. “Who said they’re mutually exclusive?”

At that, Ava laughs again, pulling Sara closer again so she can kiss her. “I love you,” she murmurs against Sara’s lips. “I love you so much, darling. Thank you for last night.”

Sara smiles. “Love you too, baby. Love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> me, fusing elements from two parts of the canon together to make one perfect whole? More likely than you think. a little artistic licence is needed because the teddy doesn't actually unlace, but shhh
> 
> Also, pls just accept that Zari and Sara are good friends now I know they only interacted once in the sqau but in the meantime they became friends.
> 
> Pam and Randy are NOT ava's parents. they're just people in town.
> 
> Okay, that's it from me for this world until I finish writing part 2! i hope you liked this! i had a lot of fun writing this, even if it did end up a LOT longer than i intended.


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